


Adapt.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's Iwaizumi week 2016 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blind Iwaizumi Hajime, Guide Dog, Hurt/Comfort, Iwaizumi Week 2016, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University offers up a variety of opportunities, curveballs, and chances. Some of them are good, some of them are not. Iwaizumi is about to encounter his first curveball, flung at him by university life.</p><p>Unfortunately, it comes in the form of a laboratory accident, and a life-changing injury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anhydride

University was supposed to be the best time of your life, a wild ride, a step towards freedom with crazy momentum and crazier antics. That was what Iwaizumi had always been told. Which is why he was extremely relieved – and maybe a touch disappointed – that his first term at university went by quietly. He made acquaintances and friends easily, he completed all his assignments on time, and the only party he was ever invited to ended up just being eating pizza on the sofa and watching Gaki no Tsukai. 

In second term, alongside his Sports Therapy class, he takes up a pharmaceutical lesson. He figures that administering treatment drugs would be a lot more effective if he _knew_ the medication, inside and out. 

Of course, university life is the kind that can never be predicted, throwing curveballs at every chance. Some things can be opportunities – the most amazing prospect possible. It can be grabbed and tamed and change things for the best. But other times, it’s more of a hindrance. An obstacle to overcome. 

It’s halfway through the lecture, a hands-on experiment with dangerous chemicals, that Iwaizumi get a curveball of his own throw towards him. Or, actually, it’s a beaker of ethanoic anhydride that comes flying towards him. Two of his classmates have stupidly been messing around during the chemical process of making paracetamol, and a stool that’s been left untucked from the bench is the final factor in tripping one of them up, sending the beaker flying.

“Iwaizumi, look out!” He turns around just in time for his eyes to widen and one arm instinctively come up to shield himself, – he thanks volleyball reflex for that one – but the liquid spills out at an angle directly onto his face. Ethanoic anhydride isn’t corrosive. It isn’t toxic. But it _is_ an irritant. And all over his face, especially in his eyes, it feels like less of a solution and more of a plasma.

Like _fire_.

“Shit!!!” He goes to rub at his eyes with his other arm, before somebody grabs it. He can’t tell who. His eyes are squeezed firmly shut in reflex against the agonising pain. The person – he thinks it’s the teacher – drags him over to the corner where the sink is and he hears the tap running like a thunderous roar accompanied by his pounding heartbeat. A cold, sopping wet rag is dabbed against his eyes, and as the water drips down to soak his shirt, gently rubs. 

“Can you open your eyes?”

“I don’t know.” Truth is; he’s a little scared to find out. He knows the anhydride could have caused his skin to inflame and swell, which applies to his eyelids as much as his arm and face. He thinks he can already feel the skin pin-prickling with irritation and tightening. It’s hard to focus on with the sharp stabbing pain in his eyeballs and icy cold water all down his front.

“I need to put the eye wash in. It’ll help, Iwaizumi.” 

“I don’t think I can, sensei.”

“Just try.”

“I am trying, I can’t open them!” Iwaizumi’s eyelids flutter, but it proves that the chemical has been sitting too long and his eyelids are puffy and swollen. He would hold them open with his hands, but they’re still under the running tap to ensure the anhydride is washed away.

“Keep them open as much as you can, I’m going to administer the eye wash in three... Two...” He fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as _another_ liquid is dripped into his eyes. It feels like tiny raindrops, slowly and softly falling from above. But the eye wash is sterile and soothing – not immediate relief, but as Iwaizumi blinks best he can, he knows that it’s going to help in the long term. 

“Sit down for now, I’ll help you wash them again every five minutes. We’ll see how you are at the end of the class.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, sensei. Just a little tingling.”

“Iwaizumi, you are my best student. You know as well as I do that chemical adverse effects are complicated at best.”

“Yes, sensei.” A little disappointed at missing one of the most vital processes on his course, Iwaizumi allows the teacher to guide him into a seat against the wall so he can lean back, and drape a wet cloth over his upper face. Iwaizumi’s face twists with discomfort at the damp, but if anyone notices, they don’t intervene. He’s resorting to listening to the rest of the lesson in a bad mood, with little interventions where he’s basically half-bathed every five minutes. If nothing else, this incident has fully put him off showers. He’ll stick to baths. 

“Alright, last time. How does it feel?”

“A lot less prickly. It still feels sensitive to touch, but I don’t think there’ll be any lasting effects.”

“That’s good, but I’ll judge that.” Iwaizumi barely restrains an exasperated groan as he hears the tap running again. Without warning, the rag over his face is removed. Iwaizumi winces and squeezes because the light from the nearby window hurts-

Should have hurt.

There’s no red haze behind his eyelids as there should have been. There’s no static of blue, green, and red dots. Slowly, he peels one eyelid open a crack. Within half a second, both eyes are wide and open and Iwaizumi stops breathing for a second.

It’s entirely dark.

No, that’s not quite right. It’s not dark because it’s just after the middle of the day and he’s standing next to a window. Plus, the laboratory lights, which are a sharp white, should still be on.

The problem is that Iwaizumi can’t _see_.

“Sensei... Sensei, I think we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t see.” He blurts the words out like a waterfall, because he knows if he hesitated, his voice would not be stable. As it is, there’s a small quiver that he’s trying to hide.

“...Can’t see? You- You mean...?”

“Yeah.” There’s an uneasy pause that only the running tap fills. It squeaks as the teacher turns it off far too tightly.

“I’m driving you to the hospital. Think you can make it to the car park?” Despite the situation, Iwaizumi finds the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“Good thing I know this building pretty well.” Not being able to see where he’s heading is a bit of an inhibition, but Iwaizumi is luckily used to having his head stuck in a textbook, so he can navigate the hallways with ease. His fingertips brush against the wall so he knows exactly when to turn, and at one point, the teacher has to grab the back of his shirt to stop him overstepping on the stairs. 

Out in the car park, Iwaizumi hesitates. He can _hear_ the vehicles, belonging to students going home or out to lunch, or teachers who have other institutions to reach. But he can’t see them. His neck and the tips of his ears burn red in embarrassment as he has to _hold his teachers hand_ to make it safely across the car park. He hopes no one he knows witnesses it, but then, he can’t actually see if anyone is nearby.

The drive is awkward and quiet. Iwaizumi blames himself for trying to _block_ the anhydride instead of ducking to avoid it. His teacher doesn’t bring it up, as if he can sense Iwaizumi’s desire to leave it unspoken. He needs time – and quiet – to register what’s really happening. Every time the car slows, his heart rate spikes. He doesn’t want to be at the hospital yet. He doesn’t want a diagnosis.

Because he doesn’t want to hear what he already suspects.

Iwaizumi is terrified of being blind.


	2. Unite.

He’s sitting in a chair in the emergency room, having already seen an ophthalmologist and had multiple tests done. All he’s waiting for is the results. It’s nerve-wracking, and he wrings his hands together as he digs his knuckles into his forehead. Moments ago, as soon as the tests were done, he told his teacher to return to the university and carry on with his lectures. Iwaizumi stands by his opinion that nobody else should have to miss a lesson because of him.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” The results are in. He swallows and shakily stands up, raising a hand in what he can only guess is the direction of the nurse that calls him. Luckily, his situation seems to be understood as he’d guided into the office of the ophthalmologist who saw him before.

“Have a seat, Iwaizumi.” That can’t be good. If he has to sit down, then the news must be something that would make his legs give way. He keeps his head dropped to the floor. If he can’t see anyways, he may as well not bother with feinting eye contact. 

“Is there anyone you would like with you to hear the news...?” Oh, it’s bad. It _has_ to be bad. Why else would he be offered to have someone there with him? He’s a grown man! Still, as dry as his throat is, he flicks out a tongue to wet his lips.

“Y-Yeah. I mean, he can’t get here. But- But I’d like to phone him, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, I understand.” With permission, Iwaizumi roots through his pocket and finds his phone, fumbling with it to get it open. It’s lucky that he knows Oikawa’s number off by heart, or he’d have no way of getting in contact, considering his phone is temperamental and he can’t see the screen. He nibbles on his thumb nail of his left hands as he shakily holds the phone up to his ear with the right.

_“Iwa-chan! Why are you calling me in the middle of a lecture?! I got sent out!”_ The petulant whine is, for once, a welcome sound to Iwaizumi’s ears. He’s silent as Oikawa speaks and whines a little, until suddenly going quiet when he realises Iwaizumi isn’t shouting at him to shut up.

_“... Iwa-chan?”_

“H-Hey. Can you- I know you said you’re in a lecture, but can you spare a moment?”

_“Of course! Iwa-chan, what’s wrong? Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?”_

“Uh-... Y-yeah. I’m in hospital.” Iwaizumi keeps the phone pressed to his ear even as Oikawa shrieks painfully, because he **needs** every aspect of his best friend right now.

_“Which hospital?! I’m getting Makki and Mattsun and we’re coming down! Tell me right now!”_

“No, no! Listen! I- I’m about to get results back. I just wa-want... Need you on speaker, okay? Please?” 

In Tokyo University, Oikawa pauses his pacing in the hallway. He’s never heard Iwaizumi sound so small, so frightened. Oikawa knows everything about his best friend from 7 years old, but he can never recall hearing Iwaizumi like this, on the verge of whimpering. A deep sigh escapes him as he yields.

“Okay, Iwa-chan. But I’m still coming over once we end the call.” 

_“Okay. Let me just-... There we go.”_ The fumbling sounds stop as Iwaizumi switches the phone to speaker and sets it on the table between him and the ophthalmologist. Oikawa leans against a wall and listens very carefully as he hears a voice that isn’t Iwaizumi talking.

Slowly, as the conversation proceeds, he covers his mouth with his hand, expression shifting into a mix of disbelief and horror. Neither Oikawa not Iwaizumi will remember the exact words in the future, but there are a couple of words that stand out.

Blind. 

Permanently. 

“Iwa-chan... Oh, Iwa-chan... Are you okay? No, stupid question! Just... Iwa-chan?” He knows exactly what will happen next. Iwaizumi will ask him to come down, desperately needing the support, but he’ll also try to put Oikawa first; even in these circumstances. He starts jogging towards the dormitories, listing in his head the things he’ll need for a long term stay.

_“C-Can you come down? I’m sorry, I- I know you’re busy so it- It’s okay if not...”_ The second he trails off to a shallow whisper, Oikawa answers.

“I’m on my way to pack a bag now. Do you want me to bring Makki and Mattsun too?”

_“... Yeah...”_

“Which hospital are you at? I’ll pick you up from there.”

_“Kobe.”_

“Kobe University Hospital?”

_“Mhm.”_ The short answers are testament to how Iwaizumi is trying urgently to hold himself together, and not doing a very good job. He’s quiet, yet his voice shakes. Oikawa can hear little hitches of breath, which he knows is Iwaizumi trying to hold in any sound. It’s going to result in hiccups. It’s going to end up with him bawling on Oikawa’s shoulder at the first possibility. But Oikawa doesn’t mind.

“Can you get someone to show you to the parking bay? Just sit down and wait for me – us - okay?”

_“O-Okay.”_ Without warning, Iwaizumi hangs up. Oikawa swears under his breath as he unlocks his dorm room and then runs about like crazy to gather things he’ll need, and throws them into a bright yellow suitcase. His phone is constantly in hand, trying to get a hold of Matsukawa or Hanamaki in a pattern, convinced that if he rings enough times, they’ll answer. Even if the continuous pestering makes them angry, he knows they wouldn’t want to be left in the dark about this.

Universities could keep them apart physically, but the four best friends were soulmates, and no amount of trouble would separate them.

Oikawa had gotten his driving license less than three weeks ago, so now seemed like a good time to take the old family dinger for a first legal, independent drive. He slung his suitcase in the boot and slammed it down, before climbing into the front seat and turning on the Bluetooth headset. As luck would have it, he was just pulling out of Tokyo University car park when the phone rang and all he had to do was press a button on the headset for the call to be answered. Hanamaki’s hugely annoyed voice venomously spat through the receiver.

_“Oikawa, what the FUCK. You just called me 38 times in the past half hour! What is so urgent you-!”_

“Iwa-Chan’s in hospital. He’s blind.”

_“... Holy shit. What- How- **How?!** ”_

“Accident at university. I’m driving up now. Pack a bag, get hold of Mattsun, I’m picking you up on the way.”

_“Y-Yeah! I’m on it. Shit, fuck- Fuck!”_ Rolling his eyes, albeit feeling the exact same, Oikawa ends the call and presses another button in an attempt to get hold of Matsukawa one more time. It goes straight to a message that tells him the caller is otherwise engaged, so he’s guessing Hanamaki got in contact first. That makes things a little easier. He can focus on driving. The simple act of driving. Trying not to cry, and driving. 

By the time he pulls up at Dokkyo University, Hanamaki is waiting outside with his own floral suitcase. He doesn’t need to exchange words with Oikawa as he squeezes his suitcase in the boot alongside Oikawa’s and takes the front seat. Only once he’s buckled in does he speak.

“Matsukawa’s getting a bus part way. We need to pick him up from Aka Mirru.” 

“Okay.” Oikawa knows that place very well. Every time the former ‘Seijou 4’ meet, they gather at the restaurant that turns out to be exactly where a huge X would mark, if their four universities were connected by a visible string. They met there just 2 weeks ago. They had a huge buffet meal to celebrate the start of second term, of Iwaizumi getting into his dream class and Matsukawa publishing his first book. They spent a good five hours talking, and joking, and laughing. Having an amazing time, like things had never changed.

And now they had. 

Drastically.

If Oikawa had known that would be the last time they’d see Iwaizumi before an accident, if he’d known it would be the last time Iwaizumi would _see_ , he would have made it so much more precious. He would have grasped every second and begged for more, tried to keep Iwaizumi happy for as long as possible. 

A soft squeeze to his leg lets him know Hanamaki is thinking the exact same thing. The restaurant comes into sight and Oikawa slows until they see Matsukawa. He doesn’t bother to wait for the car to stop, wrenching open the door and jumping into the seat behind the driver.

“Mattsun, where’s your suitcase?”

“I’ll get my mum to send some stuff from home. For now, let’s focus on Iwaizumi.”

“Definitely.” 

The rest of the journey is dull and tense, quiet in fear of the unknown. That feeling skyrockets when they go through the entrance gates to Kobe University hospital. The pick-up area is directly ahead of them, and sitting on a bench on his lonesome, head hung low and body hunched over, is their best friend. Oikawa almost doesn’t recognise him, curled up so tightly and visibly defeated. The car rumbles to a stop and he gestures for Hanamaki and Matsukawa to stay seated. Reluctantly, they do so, watching in concern as Oikawa slowly walks up to Iwaizumi.

“... Iwa-chan?” He jumps. Even though Oikawa made his footsteps intentionally heavy, he had no idea Oikawa was there. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so a slow nod is all he gives.

“Have you signed out? You can come with us for sure?” Another nod.

“... Are you gonna break down as soon as we’re in private?” Iwaizumi nods much more firmly. It’s not confident at all, it’s a desperate plea for Oikawa to get him away from here as fast as possible. He might not have his sight, but he still has his pride. He won’t cry in front of strangers.

“Come on, Iwa-chan. You’ll be sitting in the back with Mattsun, okay?” Gently, Oikawa tugs him to his feet, and Iwaizumi tries to cover his shaking shoulders with a shiver, pretending it’s cold when he’s upright and walking. He’s guided to the car – but it could honestly be anywhere, he can’t tell – and as soon as he sits down, there’s an arm draped around his back. The car door shuts, and Iwaizumi allows himself to break. Matsukawa pulls him into a tight hug, silent support, but it’s not enough to keep his heart from shattering.

His tormented wails seem to echo in the cramped vehicle long after he cries himself to sleep.


	3. Gainsboro gremlins.

When Iwaizumi wakes up, he wonders why it’s so dark. Then, he remembers. His chest clenches and his stomach flips and his head pounds. It feels like the earth is slowly crumbling away and he’s staring into oblivion, defeated and overwhelmed. 

“Are you awake...?” The soft whisper comes from his left, and it’s then that he registers he’s on something really soft and comfy, most likely a bed. He’s surrounded by warmth, and he can faintly detect three different patterns of breathing. The other three must be wrapped around him. It’s Hanamaki’s voice that whispers out to him, and it takes Iwaizumi a minute to gather the strength to nod. He just feels so... Drained...

“Feelin’ thirsty? Hungry?” Body like lead and everything in slow motion, he shakes his head. He can’t really feel much, except for the same shock as when he was first told the news, and a weariness that settles in his bones and makes him feel 30 years older. Blankets rustle, and then Hanamaki is carding a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair, a careful, soothing motion that somewhat relives his headache over time.

Iwaizumi doesn’t move from where he stares up at the ceiling, wondering what pattern he would see if he could. He thinks of how he and Oikawa used to lie on their backs in his bedroom as kids and point out different things they could see in the painted ceiling. They did it with stars too. And clouds. Even tree trunks.

Everything he has done in his life so far has been centred around being able to see. He wouldn’t have hunted bugs in childhood, or played the games he used to with Oikawa if he had been born blind. He wouldn’t have been able to play _volleyball_ , a huge part of his life that he can never return to. He never would have been able to study scientific material, or read the physical therapy books in his dad’s office room. He wouldn’t have chosen this career path if he had been blind from the beginning.

It hits him that he probably won’t be able to do it now. His course. His ambition. Not for a long time. Not until he learns to read Braille, and finds a way to navigate, and re-learns _everything_ by sound, touch, and smell. (He would never taste a future patient, no matter what.)

“Hey... Hey, it’s okay... Shh... It’s alright, let it out...” Dutifully, Hanamaki grabs a tissue from the side and wipes away the tears as they fall. He wriggles in as close as possible, so that Iwaizumi can feel him. From body warmth to heartbeat. Lips pressed against the shell of Iwaizumi’s ear, he whispers as much comfort as he can.

It takes a while. It takes a long while, and he’s surprised neither Oikawa nor Matsukawa have awoken. It does get the point, however, where Iwaizumi raises an arm and drags it over his face. He winces a little, and Hanamaki isn’t sure how to tell him that half of his face is covered with a bright red rash and a couple of blisters. Washing away the chemicals had done the trick of preventing further damage, but the irritant had still seeped in enough to cause this sensitivity. It wasn’t enough to save his sight, either.

“I... I have to pee...” He snorts a little in amusement and removes himself from the bed to give Iwaizumi a hand up.

“Bathroom’s this way. We’re at mine, by the way.”

“How the fuck is your bed so big?”

“Because it’s a sofa-bed. Come on, we got stairs to get up yet. Please don’t piss on the carpet, it’s _Gainsboro_.” 

“So, grey, basically.” Iwaizumi’s voice has gained a little bit of normality, much more steady and solid. Hanamaki walks backwards as he has each of Iwaizumi’s hands in his own, not only guiding him, but keeping him balanced. Without sight, Iwaizumi is finding it hard to keep his centre of gravity moving in one smooth line. He staggers a little, but Hanamaki is right there to adjust him onto the right track. 

“Yeah, yeah. Grey. With a little bit of blue.”

“It sounds... Pretty.” Hanamaki never would have thought he’d hear Iwaizumi appreciate the soft colour of his carpet, but then he reminds himself that yeah, it’s a colour. It’s something Iwaizumi will never see again.

“Nah, it’s pretty ugly actually. I only got it ‘cus it was cheap.” He’s rewarded with a small chuckle that sounds hoarse and dry. He reminds himself to get Iwaizumi a drink as soon as he’s finished in the bathroom. The stairs are a difficult challenge. Iwaizumi can’t tell where he’s putting his foot, so he usually ends up stubbing it against the next step, or barely perched on the edge and at risk of slipping. It gives Hanamaki several heart attacks in the space of six minutes.

“Are we nearly there?”

“Last step.” With the staircase conquered, Iwaizumi can breathe a sigh of relief before a new dilemma strikes. His bladder constricts and he worries it might be too late. He snatches a hand away from Hanamaki and grasps himself firmly with an unintentional whimper, legs crossed.

“Whatever you do, do _not_ piss in my arms.”

“In your- Whoa!” He doesn’t get time to ask before Hanamaki literally just _sweeps him up_ in a bridal style hold and carries him through to the bathroom. Hanamaki uses a foot to lift the toilet seat and tugs off Iwaizumi’s trousers and underpants in one go with one hand as he drops the former Ace directly onto the toilet.

“Thank fuck!” Iwaizumi’s eyes narrow in his vague direction, guessing where Hanamaki is.

“Do you mind?!”

“Oh. Right. Privacy. Forgot you were all uptight about that.” Hands up in surrender – not that Iwaizumi can see – Hanamaki backs out the bathroom and shuts the door. He waits in the hall way with his hands stuffed in his pockets until he hears a soft and embarrassed call of his name.

“What is it?”

“I- I don’t know where the toilet paper is.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Okay, umm... Put your hand straight out in front of you, against the wall. You should feel a metal bar?”

“Yeah, okay?”

“That’s the towel rack. The toilet roll is on the shelf just above it.” It goes quiet for a minute.

“... Hanamaki.”

“Yeah?”

“I hate your stupidly long arms with a _passion_.” Hanamaki laughs unabashed. He puts a hand on the door handle before remembering that Iwaizumi needs fair warning now.

“Cover up, I’m coming in!” 

“I’m sitting down, there’s nothing _to_ cover.” Within seconds, Hanamaki has taken the toilet roll and holds it just in front of Iwaizumi. He makes no move to take it.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t you want it?”

“I don’t know where it is!”

“Right in front of you! Open your eye-... Oh. Shit. Fuck. Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry.” Iwaizumi is silent as he snatches the toilet roll from Hanamaki’s grasp after several failed attempts. He’s biting down into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and the corners of his eyes are pinched in anger.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, Iwaizumi, I-.”

“Just get out.” Cold. Harsh. Bitter. Everything he deserves to be. Guiltily, Hanamaki backs out again and leaves Iwaizumi to it, listening to the flush, the running tap, the noisy soap pump, and then silence. He knows Iwaizumi is lingering. Stalling. Thinking. He doesn’t want to come out, and Hanamaki doesn’t have the gull to force him before he’s ready. The bathroom door opens.

“Hanamaki.”

“Y-Yes?” He clenches his hands into tight fists with rising anxiety.

“It... It’s okay. It only just happened. We’re all going to have trouble getting used to it.” He blinks, openly gaping. He’d expected to be told he was hated, or to be shouted at. Not to be forgiven.

“Wh- what?”

“We’re adjusting. Even- Even I forgot when I first woke up.”

“Oh, Iwaizumi... Even so, it wasn’t right to say that. Let me make it up to you.” The corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth twitch upwards, even if it is an insignificant amount.

“Carry me down the stairs. Getting up was hard enough.”

“Ooh, having a rough time getting up~?”

“I just said- Oi! Stop making everything dirty!” Cackling, Hanamaki gives Iwaizumi three seconds to ready himself for being picked up, and carefully lifts him in the same bridal style as before. Iwaizumi holds on for dear life, knuckles turning white where he’s clenching the front of Hanamaki’s shirt. The material is probably going to be stretched, but Hanamaki can’t find it in himself to be mad. Iwaizumi can’t _see_ , and he’s being carried down the stairs. It’s like freefalling with a shoddy safety harness.

“Think the others will be awake by now?”

“I don’t know what time it is.”

“Just before 6 in the morning.”

“Matsukawa will still be dead to the earth. Oikawa might wake up if there’s food.” Hanamaki steers them into the kitchen to leave their sleepy friends in peace. He sets Iwaizumi down in a chair before rummaging through the cupboards for cooking equipment. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that Iwaizumi is sitting up straight, hands in his lap and eyes closed. His head is tilted in interest, listening carefully. It’s highly likely that he’s trying to compensate for his loss of sight by using his hearing; trying to work out what’s going on by sound alone.

“How does pancakes sound to you?”

“Amazing. Need me to help?” Iwaizumi instantly bites his tongue. It’s not even been a full day. He isn’t adjusted to his blindness in the slightest. Adding in that he hasn’t been in Hanamaki’s home since it was refurbished, it was a fruitless effort to even think about helping. Hanamaki notices the pinched expression and adds a third egg to the mix already in the bowl before sliding it over to Iwaizumi.

“Yeah, stir this, right in front of you. I have to wake the gremlins.” He pads out the room quietly and hovers in the doorway to watch as Iwaizumi slaps the table a bit to find the spoon, then grabs the edge of the bowl and starts enthusiastically stirring. With a soft smile, Hanamaki makes good on his promise to wake the ‘gremlins’ up.

This consists of taking a run up from the door frame and launching himself over the arm of the sofa to completely flatten them with a belly flop. The entire sofa creaks, and he’s pretty sure one of the last surviving springs in the bed extension snaps in half. Oikawa makes a dramatic dying noise which is both loud and ghastly, and Matsukawa may actually be dead, considering he doesn’t make any noise at all.

“Wakey wakey, let’s get pancakey!”

“Pancakes?” Oikawa sits up with enough force to roll Hanamaki towards the end of the bed. He rubs at his bleary eyes and looks around in a drowsy manner until his gaze falls on the empty spot next to him.

“Where’s Iwa-chan?!”

“In the kitchen. Relax, Oikawa. It might have only been yesterday, but I think he’s trying to adjust already.” Oikawa breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles, genuine and soft.

“He’s strong.”

“Fucking indestructible, more like.”

“He’s gon’ be ‘kay...” The sleepy mumble comes from lips pressed into a pillow, Matsukawa stirring faintly before cocooning back down into the dent he’s made from lying in one position all night. Hanamaki reaches over and tugs the covers away to slap Matsukawa’s thigh playfully. 

“Come on lazy lugs! There are pancakes to be had.”

“Fuck you and your pancake temptation.” Still, he rolls from the sofa-bed to land with his knees on the floor and works his way up from there until he’s standing and stretching. Oikawa takes a moment to wake up properly before shimmying out of the covers and bouncing out the bed, across the room, and into the kitchen with a skip in his step. Hanamaki and Matsukawa glare after him in part-confusion, part-envy.

“How does he wake up so quickly?”

“How is his hair so _flouncy_ and perfect?”

“He’s not human, Matsukawa. That has to be it.”

“Fucking’ knew it.” They share a high five before pottering after Oikawa, who is perched on the edge of the table and brightly chatting to Iwaizumi, who calmly nods along as he pretends to listen. His entire focus is on stirring the pancake mixture, which looks pretty smooth from Hanamaki’s point of view.

“Gremlins are up; I can take it from here.” Iwaizumi reluctantly passes over the bowl. It had been therapeutic just as much as it had helped him feel useful. Closing his eyes, he folded his arms on the table and rested his chin atop them.

“Iwa-chan, you’re not even listening to me!”

“I am now. Involuntarily.” Matsukawa’s snort of laughter from behind catches Iwaizumi off guard and he jumps a little, but quickly settles back down. He hears the almost inaudible flicker of the gas flame coming to life, followed by a soft ‘fwoomph’ as the spark ignites and then the familiar hiss of the controlled fire. It’s more of a roar at first, but Hanamaki switches it to a lower intensity and it becomes more like a dull hum. The short burst of methane he smelt before is replaced by butter as it melts with a loud sizzle. Iwaizumi can imagine it sliding around the pan, leaving a golden trail with bubbles following the vanishing lump.

He physically flinches when the batter – he presumes – hits the pan. It splutters and crackles until it calms, the scent of fresh cupcakes, removed warm from the oven pleasing his nostrils. He hears the scrape of the bottom of the pan against the metal hob, knowing Hanamaki is making sure it’s not sticking to the bottom. For a second, all goes silent. Then there’s a spongy thud of impact. The pancake has been flipped, he realises, when it sizzles again and then goes quiet. He can still hear the flame, but not the cooking. 

Then, it starts all over again. Iwaizumi listens just as intently for as many times as there are pancakes cooked. When the flame goes off, he sits up in anticipation.

“Alright, it’s ready! Got your toppings ready?” Matsukawa holds up a tub of golden syrup, retrieved from the closest cupboard, and Oikawa grins from the chopping board.

“Strawberries, raspberries and lemons sliced and diced!” He fetches the squirty cream from the fridge too. When Hanamaki places down the plate with all the pancakes on, it’s a fight to the death, survival of the fittest, a chaotic arrangement of forks and bare hands grabbing for as many pancakes as possible. There is no organised ranking at _this_ table, only savagery and hunger. Iwaizumi may seem to be at a bit of a disadvantage, but he’s just as _brutal_ as the others, if not more.

“Iwa-chan, get your fork out of my hand!”

“Oi, mind your nails!”

“Don’t steal the whole fucking table!” Iwaizumi cackles as he pulls the tablecloth towards himself with vigour and grabs the plate of pancakes before making a run for it. Of course, that’s not a good idea considering he has no idea where the door is.

“OOF!” The other three burst out into hideous and unrestrained laughter as he runs straight into the wall and fall flat on his back, pancake plate upside down on his chest. Jokes on them, he can eat the breakfast directly from here. Doesn’t even have to move his arms. When Oikawa is finally done snorting through laughter, he comes over to Iwaizumi’s side and crouches down, picking the plate off. 

“Happy there, Iwa-chan?” He gives the affirmative through a full mouthful, chin against his chest as he munches on the pancake tower on his torso. He’s quite content to sit here and effortlessly chow down. He can still hear Hanamaki and Matsukawa hollering like baboons, and he’s pretty sure he hears the shutter of a phone camera click. He can check snapchat later and-

Oh.

No, he can’t.

Iwaizumi pauses halfway through a bite and drops his head back to the floor as he swallows what’s already in his mouth. He can’t see. He can’t watch memories being made or look at pictures of days gone past. Iwaizumi learns through visual experience, and he remembers with visual cues. Now that his sight is gone, how is he going to learn new, complicated things? How will he remember those precious memories from when he was younger?

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re thinking too hard. I think there might be smoke coming out of your ears~.”

“... Probably. I’m thinking about a lot of things.” Oikawa pokes his cheek and Iwaizumi reaches up to bat him away with surprising accuracy, given how his limbs feel like lead.

“Bad things?” Hanamaki and Matsukawa are quiet now, listening. Reluctantly, Iwaizumi nods.

“Yeah. This- This is just so different. I don’t know what to _do_.” His voice cracks and there’s slow footsteps coming over towards him, the rustling of fabric, and then a deep sigh as all three friends move to sit around him. Matsukawa hooks his hands under Iwaizumi’s arms and pulls him into his lap, looping his arms lazily around Iwaizumi’s waist and putting his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“You know we’re here to help, right? You don’t have to do this alone, and you don’t have to think of things to do alone. We’ll be your eyes, just like you’ve always been our pillar.” Honestly, Iwaizumi feels a little choked up. He’s touched by the kind and unusually serious words; more so, he’s moved by the reassurance that he’s always got them. They’ve seen him at his best, and now, seeing him at his worst, they’re not budging anywhere. He dryly laughs.

“Can’t do anything to get rid of you, can I?”

“Nope! Even if you tried walking backwards through hell, we’d still be there with you~.”

“... If I were in hell, you three would be on the throne and the devil would be shitting himself in the corner.”

“True, true.” Hanamaki has a tight squeeze on one of Iwaizumi’s hands, providing support that his words mask with humour. On the other end of things, Oikawa is abnormally quiet. Iwaizumi can’t see what he’s doing, but he knows Oikawa is still there because he hasn’t heard him leave. He thinks. He hopes.

“Oikawa?”

“You know, I think the next step would be a guide dog.”

“Trashykawa, what the _fuck_? Where did that come from?” He feels a cool metal slab pressed against his face. For a moment, he’s confused, but then he realises it’s Oikawa’s phone. It’s the Docomo AQUOS Keitai, a blue-green flip phone that he got when they moved onto university. Apparently, he chose it because it’s the closest they had to Seijou colours. The most important factor, though, is its speedy internet connection from most places, including Hanamaki’s house.

“... You- You’re researching what to do...?”

“Well duh! I can’t let my best _best_ friend go by without help! Don’t worry, Iwa-chan! We’re gonna get you the best there is!” Iwaizumi smiles, a wide grin that he can feel stretching the tight skin on his upper face.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”


	4. DOGS.

“So this is our litter of dogs that are ready to go into service. They’re all trained for blind assistance, as well as basic commands like sit, heel, and stay. We’re going to introduce you to them, and if there’s any you feel a connection with, we’ll take you aside for one-on-one.”

“R-right, okay.” Iwaizumi is a little overwhelmed by the information as they follow a staff member through the halls of the Guide Dog facility. Oikawa is holding his hand to keep him on course, and Matsukawa trails behind them to make sure they don’t fall too far behind. Unfortunately, Hanamaki couldn’t come because he has an exam, but they promised to update him via text or phone call.

There’s barking from all directions, of various ages that seem to increase until they fall silent. Iwaizumi can still hear the skittering of paw pads against the floor, so he knows that they must be moving into the section with the trained dogs, which will rarely bark without command. Whilst Iwaizumi is apprehensive, and Matsukawa is calm, Oikawa is bounding with energy and extremely excited.

“How many are there~?”

“8 in total. 3 male, 5 female.”

“What are their names?”

“Kai, Kazuki, and Kiyoshi are the three males. Kohaku, Kaori, Kiki, and Kanon are the blond girls, and Kaede is the odd one out with her light brown fur.”

“They all sound so cute! Iwa-chan, pick Kaede! She’s the brown o-... Oh, sorry.” Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi tugs on Oikawa’s hand to chastise him.

“You heard what we were told. It’s about _connection_ , Oikawa, not cuteness.” Oikawa whines like a child but makes no more comments on the subject. Iwaizumi is right, they all know that. After all, this is a dog that will stick with Iwaizumi for the rest of their life, guiding him and helping him with everyday tasks. This is not a pet dog, although it will be just as loved, Oikawa knows.

“Alright, I’m afraid your friends will have to wait out here for now.”

“That’s fine. You can try and train _them_ if you’d like.”

“Iwa-chan!”

“It’d be a miracle if it works. I’ve been trying for up to fourteen years now.” He’s rewarded with a small laugh from the staff member, who unlocks a door.

“We’ll see. Although I was thinking more of letting them go and see the youngest of our puppies. They need socialisation before training.” Oikawa gasps with delight, bringing his hands up to squish his cheeks and grinning like an idiot with a squeal. Matsukawa can’t deny that he’s also excited by the prospect.

“We’d appreciate that. Have fun, Iwaizumi.” He lifts up a hand to wave them away as they’re ushered off by another staff member – not that they need much convincing, there’s puppies to be seen. Iwaizumi exhales slowly to calm his nerves and steps into the room. 

“There’s a soft bench ahead of you, about 15 steps. Make yourself comfy whilst I fetch the K crew.” 

“Thank you.” The staff member walks off to his left, he thinks, and he cautiously takes 15 steps forwards before reaching around with his hands. He finds a surface that feels like those soft squares that are generally used in toddler groups, or for young children to play on. He can only imagine it’s a striking red or Persian blue. Iwaizumi sits down and folds his hands in his lap, uncharacteristically nervous. This is a critical moment that will completely change his life. In a way, this could give him back some of the freedom he had as a seeing person, although he knows it will never be the same.

“Heel, heel.” There’s soft padding accompanying the strict words, the sound of _8 dogs_ calmly walking into the area. 

“Find.” Their direction scatters at the same point, freed from their command to heel and inspect the area, looking for toys or treats which are strategically placed where a potential owner might leave a phone or a sock, or something else needed. This activity reinforces the reward system the dogs have been trained with, constantly renewing that urge to fetch things on command. The cube Iwaizumi is sitting on dips as the staff member sits herself next to him.

“Right, so. At the moment, they’re searching for treats we placed earlier. Not only is it important for their training, but it’s also to let them get comfortable to your presence in the room. Once they’ve finished, they should come up and say hello. You’re welcome to pet them, sit on the floor, and try some commands of your own, things like that. It’s just testing the waters to see who connects to you most, and more importantly, _listens_.”

“Sounds easy enough, I guess.”

“You’ll get your first chance in a second~. This is Kazuki, coming up on your right.” A wet nose presses against Iwaizumi’s wrist and he jumps a little at the sensation. Then, he holds his palm out flat for the dog to investigate. He feels the hot breathe dance against his palm before Kazuki huffs and trots off.

“I didn’t feel any kind of connection there. And apparently, neither did he.”

“That’s alright; there are 7 more to go. And if it’s none of these, we’ll move onto the J group. They’re younger and not as intensely trained, so you’ll have to wait longer to be assigned one, but there’s always a dog for everybody.” Iwaizumi is listening so intensely, he misses the approach of another dog, and is greatly surprised when a heavy weight flops across his feet. He hesitates for a second, then reaches down and pats what he hopes is the dog’s side. A tail thumps against the floor happily, and as Iwaizumi gains a little more confidence to pet the dog properly, he smiles.

“This one. I can feel it, this is the dog.” The staff member laughs lightly next to him.

“Your friend will be pleased! Looks like he was right, telling you to select Kaede~.”

“This is Kaede?”

“Yup.”

“She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Iwaizumi is taught some quick commands and hand signals that he’ll need to know, and assured that Kaede is responding to him with no problems whatsoever. The other dogs have been taken back to their kennels, so Iwaizumi can focus on Kaede without distractions, and they can get to know each other. It’s been about an hour since they were introduced, and Iwaizumi slips to sit on the floor at presumably eye level with the guide dog.

“So, how do you feel about this, huh? Think we can be partners?” The sweeping of a happy tail against the floor, and the weight of a paw landing on his shoulder are his answers, and Iwaizumi can’t hold back a laugh as he leans forwards and embraces her. This is exactly what he needs – who he needs – to get back into life. To stop stumbling around Hanamaki’s house with dark thoughts and periods of distress, and work his way beyond the four walls. Possibly, back to independence. It’ll take a long time, he knows, and there’s lots of paperwork to do before he can take Kaede home, but it’s starting to look up.

“I think I’ve seen enough. We’ll put Kaede on reserve for you, and once you’ve done all the paperwork and learnt the commands, we can let you take your guide dog home.”

“That’s amazing, thank you.”

“For now let’s go save your friends from the puppies.”

“It’s probably the other way round, I think.” He’s proven right when they walk into the puppy enclosure and Oikawa is literally sobbing with joy, scooping puppies into his arms and cuddling them tightly.

“I-Iwa-chan! They’re so soft and small a-and cute! Oh, I want them! I want them all! So badly.” Matsukawa huffs from where he’s playing tug-rope with a single pup, watching as Iwaizumi crosses his arms and sternly furrows his eyebrows.

“You can’t, dumbass. They’re guide dogs, and last time I checked, you didn’t need one.”

“But- But Iwa-chan! They’re so soft and fluffy! Here, hug one!” Oikawa holds one puppy up to Iwaizumi’s face and much to his delight, Iwaizumi smiles when an enthusiastic tongue licks all over his face with little puppy whines of delight. Iwaizumi reaches out and takes the puppy into his own arms, supporting the bottom as the puppy wags its tail hard enough to vibrate.

“Well hello there. I’m terribly sorry you had to put up with this dumbass for an hour. Why don’t we let you go now, hmm? I’ll take him away and you can have some peace and quiet again.” The puppy barks in response, as if it understands Iwaizumi had stopped talking, and with a soft chuckle, he sets the puppy down. Oikawa is still cradling two in his arms and cooing at them like they’re the most precious things in the world. To somebody, someday, they will be.

“Oi. C’mon. It’s time to go. Matsukawa, that means you too. Honestly, it’s like I’m herding _children_ , not University students.”

“Alright buddy, you win.” Matsukawa lets his end of the rope go and the puppy sprints merrily off with his prize. Oikawa is a little more reluctant, but he opens his arms and the puppies start to play fight with each other on the floor nearby. He bids them goodbye multiple times, until Iwaizumi physically drags him out the room (narrowly missing a wall), and down the hallway. 

“Here’s the files you’ll need to fill out – with help, of course. You’ve got one month to fill these out and return them before you lose reserve on Kaede, so there’s no rush, but we ultimately would like them back as early as possible. There’s also everything you need to learn in here, written and in Braille. You’ll need to confidently execute at least 30 of these signals before we can officially hand her over. Think you can manage?”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“Hold the phone! Iwa-chan, you chose Kaede~?!” Iwaizumi sighs and nods, fully expecting the hug that flies at him and clings on like an overly attached koala. He allows Oikawa to drape from him, gushing over how he _knew_ it would be Kaede, and how it was instinctive, despite having never met the dog. 

“Thank you for your help. We’ll be back within the month, I guarantee.” Polite bows are exchanged, and then the three boys exit the building together. Oikawa leads the way with a skip in his step whilst Matsukawa walks alongside Iwaizumi, arms linked to prevent him walking into traffic. 

“Hey, Iwaizumi?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a huge step you’re taking. And pretty early on too. Are you sure you don’t want to learn more Braille or using a stick first...?” 

“I’m sure. The stick just takes some getting used to; I’ll practice around the house. As for Braille... It’s not-... I can’t-... I’m struggling to learn it. All the letters and shapes feel the same underneath. Like a bunch of randomly clustered dots. I know it’ll come with time, but, I’d rather learn the commands for Kaede first.”

“Fair enough. Hey, Iwaizumi?”

“What now?”

“I’m proud of you.” Iwaizumi stays silent, not knowing how to respond, but he must be blushing or something because Matsukawa laughs before opening the car door for him. The drive back to Hanamaki’s seems shorter than on the way in, perhaps because he’s not nervous. He closes his eyes and listens to the soft rumble of the engine, the window rolled down a little so that the breeze created by movement ruffles his hair and caresses his face, which is warm from the bright sunshine. At intervals, he can hear birds over the engine and he knows it’s a beautiful day.

He doesn’t need to see it, because he can sense it. Much the same way, he can smell curry as soon as the car pulls into the driveway. Hanamaki is back from his exam, and preparing lunch for them. Iwaizumi winds the window back up and clambers out, navigating by brushing his fingers against the side of the car and reaching out with his other until he finds the wall. Following the wall, he reaches the front of the house before the other two ruin his task by getting there first. 

His fingertips trail over the rough brickwork until they find a cold, metal circle with a soft button in the centre. He presses it, listening to the melodic tune the doorbell makes, loud enough to be heard on the front step. Matsukawa is quiet, holding his arm out to prevent Oikawa from going over and interrupting Iwaizumi’s little moment. It doesn’t seem like a big thing, but this is the first time he’s successfully made it from car to front door and pressed the doorbell without assistance. It’s something to celebrate, no matter how tiny. 

“Hey, you’re back!” Hanamaki opens the front door with a flourish, and a massive _wave_ of overpowering curry fragrance knocks Iwaizumi back. He coughs and gags as he waves a hand around to try and dispel it.

“Fucking hell, Hanamaki! How spicy have you made that?!”

“Huh? What? The curry? The same as always! The one you complain is _weak_.” With a hand over his mouth and nose, Iwaizumi narrowed his watering eyes in the vague direction of the door.

“It’s not weak his time. _Trust_ me.”

“But- But it’s the same recipe as always.” Matsukawa hums lightly as he comes over, a hand on Iwaizumi’s back to try and soothe him as he gagged once more.

“You know I’ve heard that when you lose one sense, your others will compensate for it.”

“... Wait, you mean Iwa-chan is getting sensitive smell?”

“Probably better hearing as well.” Iwaizumi pauses for a moment to shrug.

“That’s pretty cool.” A hand grips around his wrist and tugs him indoors, which is actually a relief, because he feels rather odd standing in the doorway. The _smell_ , however, is completely overpowering and his stomach churns.

“I- I’m gonna have to wait upstairs.”

“I’m coming with you, Iwa-chan~.” True to his words, Oikawa skips along behind Iwaizumi as he heads up the stairs on all fours. It’s easier to navigate this way, even if he feels a little silly. It’s nothing to be prideful of, but it’s something he can do by himself, instead of having to awkwardly amble up the stairs with supervision. It makes going to the bathroom a _lot_ easier when he can go alone.

“What are we gonna do up here?”

“Well... Actually, we could go over some of the guide dog commands. The quicker I learn them, the better.”

“Sounds fun~!”

“You’ll have to learn them too. Kaede is going to need all four of us to be able to communicate with her, seeing as we spend so much time together.” Oikawa nods with a concerned expression. There’s something about Iwaizumi’s tone of voice that just... Sounds a little lost. He can’t figure out if it’s because of the massive amount they have to learn, or because he’s lamenting even needing a guide dog in the first place.

Oikawa could usually read his friend like a book, but this is a circumstance he could never have foreseen. There’s no way for him to know exactly _what_ Iwaizumi is reacting to anymore, because his blind eyes are constantly unfocused. If he had been looking at the book containing everything he has to learn, Oikawa would have known it was the former. But he couldn’t look. He couldn’t see.

“Okay, Iwa-chan! I’ll be Kaede, and you have to tell me the commands!” He follows up with a small bark and pats his hand against the bed like it’s a wagging tail. Iwaizumi snorts, his nose crinkling with amusement before he buries his face in his hands to hide the growing grin.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this. I always said you were a bitch~.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan!”

In the space of three weeks, Iwaizumi has learnt most of the book. Oikawa and Matsukawa read the commands aloud for him to repeat, whilst Hanamaki had no issue with manhandling Iwaizumi into the correct hand gestures for non-verbal commands. They’re on their way back to the centre to hand in the paperwork, and hopefully, bring home a guide dog.

Iwaizumi’s hands shook in his lap even as he pressed them between his thighs. He wasn’t sure if it was due to excitement or nerves, but they just _would not **stop shaking**._

“Hey.” A warm hand squeezed his shoulder firmly. For once, Hanamaki was sitting in the back, mainly due to the fact that Matsukawa had bullied his way into the front seat with a smug grin.

“Hmm?”

“It’s gonna be okay. You know that, right? Out of all of us, you’ve prepared the most. Once the dog is here, everything will fall into place.”

“I- I hope so. It’s... Really difficult, going from being able to see to suddenly... Not. I feel like I lost a part of myself and Kaede is going to help get it back.”

“Everything will be okay. That part you lost? It’ll come back with confidence, which is exactly why you’re getting a dog in the first place.” The hand on his shoulder moves down to his wrist and then interlocks with his hand, holding it tenderly. Iwaizumi can’t see if Hanamaki’s blushing, but he can feel the heat of his own cheeks. 

Lately, he’s been finding it a lot harder _not_ to blush. These three amazing friends that he’s known for a large portion of his life have stuck with him when most people would call it quits. 

They’ve shared the same bed to give him warmth and let him know they’re present – seeing as he’s gained a fear of being left alone. He wouldn’t be able to tell if someone had walked off mid-conversation, or if he was suddenly abandoned. A couple of times, he’s woken up from a pitch black dream and almost panicked, until he’s heard soft snoring, felt warm limbs wrapped around him, and been able to smell their bodies nearby. Sometimes, he isn’t sure the last one should be so comforting.

They’ve tried to keep things light-hearted. Instead of constantly asking if he’s okay when he trips over something, or walks into a wall, they laugh like it’s the most normal thing in the world. They address his blindness head on, but at the same time, only talk about it when they have to. It helps Iwaizumi feels grounded. Normal.

He’s picked up some new things, however. Hanamaki was always orientated around physical contact and reassurance, but it comes a lot more often now, genuinely softer and comforting. He was the first to pull Iwaizumi into a hug when he started to stress, or cuddle up to him in bed on the _really_ bad days where he physically couldn’t get up.

Matsukawa was just as quiet as before, but he had taken to staying up late at night to make sure Iwaizumi was relaxed before he went to sleep himself. It was these little tiny things he did - like flicking on the kettle so Iwaizumi didn’t have to fumble around for it, or putting different feeling materials around the head of each key he possessed – that showed he truly cared. 

Oikawa became even noisier. Iwaizumi had thought it impossible, but once again, his best friend exceeded his standards. He told more jokes, burst into random song, and narrated movies in a completely unironic but hilarious way. He used his voice to fill in the gaps that Iwaizumi’s sight could no longer satisfy, such as telling him what colour he was wearing or the pattern on his clothes. Once, he’d told Iwaizumi wrong on _purpose_ , which had made Hanamaki and Matsukawa burst out laughing when they saw him what turned out to be a bright neon orange top with ruffled sleeves, and leggings with laser-pizza-cats all over them.

“Thanks, Hanamaki.” _For everything_ goes unsaid, but they both know it’s there. The car pulls to a halt, and Iwaizumi exhales slowly. His mind is running a mile a minute and his heart is going twice as fast. Everything seems to go by in slow motion, like he’s underwater. But it happens in flashes. One minute he’s in the car, and then he’s standing in an open room where he can feel an air conditioner blowing down the back of his shirt, his hands dancing through the motions as he shows what he’s learnt to the staff, before he’s moved into the same room he met Kaede in, smelling of dogs and disinfectant and rubber. It isn’t until there’s a dog in his arms that he begins to register things on a normal scale again.

“H-Hey, Kaede. Have you been waiting for me?” A wet nose presses against the back of his hand and Iwaizumi chuckles softly. A leather lead is pressed into the palm of his hand and he grins. This is his dog now. His guide dog. This is how he gets his confidence back – his _life_ back.

For the first time in just over a month, Iwaizumi walks from a building to the car without someone holding onto him.


	5. Karasuno and kisses.

One year goes by like no time at all. Iwaizumi has not only dropped out from University for the time being, but he’s moved into Hanamaki’s house. To no surprise, Matsukawa and Oikawa follow in that order. They no longer _have_ to share the sofa-bed, but on bad days, find themselves returning to it to keep Iwaizumi company through dark doubts and sleepless nights.

Matsukawa picks up a job on the side of his own university course. Nothing special, just washing dishes in a restaurant, but it does mean that there’s a source of income. By the end of the month, Hanamaki will have run out of inheritance from his father’s passing, and that’s when they’ll be in trouble if they can’t get an income to keep the payments stable. Oikawa is hunting down the highest paying job he can, Hanamaki is on the search for an internship, and Iwaizumi is stuck. Again.

Four out of six jobs he had applied for denied him the instance they saw a dog at his side. Reasonably, these were jobs that closely worked with fresh food. One of them had turned him down due to blindness because there would be a _lot_ of sharp or dangerous equipment, things that his guide dog had not been taught to be wary of. The 6th job he applied for looked promising, until they found a candidate with experience in that particular field. 

Iwaizumi could understand the reasoning for each of them, but it doesn’t make him less bitter. That’s when a miracle happens. He’s out one day on a walk with Kaede, heading to the coffee shop that’s newly opened around the corner. He hears it’s a friendly place, a safe place for people with disabilities and a safe place for the LGBT+ community. Apparently it doubles as a space where staff members will listen to their customer’s woes and give them advice. It’s therapeutic as much as it is relaxing. Or so he’s been told.

Kaede walks at his heel until she nudges at his left knee to turn right, or his left hand to turn left. She stops him from walking out into roads before the light changes by using her bark as a signal. Although dogs can’t see many colours, blue is one of them. When Kaede can see the blue light, she won’t allow Iwaizumi to cross, no matter if there’s no traffic.

After just over half an hour of walking, Iwaizumi picks up the smell of coffee and fresh bakery products wafting through the air. He knows they’re close, because Matsukawa told him it was practically on the path he walks Kaede every morning, on good days.

“Kaede, heel.” The guide dog tugs at her lead in the opposite direction, the direction they would usually go, with a whine of confusion. But by now, Iwaizumi knows how to teach her new routes.

“Cafe, Kaede. Heel, cafe.” He repeats the word cafe every five steps, tugging her lead in the direction he’s headed until he walks into a railing. He wraps his hand around it and follows it up a slope to the door. Considering that’s how Matsukawa described the entrance, Iwaizumi can guess he’s in the right place. The only struggle now is finding the handle, which doesn’t seem to be _anywhere_. He must look like an idiot from the inside, stroking the door from left to right and up and down.

“There’s a large metal pad to the side of the door that opens it automatically, if you need help.” He jumps at the voice from behind, but much to his relief, finds the stranger is correct. The door slides open with a soft whir.

“Thank you. I never would have found it on my own.” He smiles over his shoulder where he thinks the stranger is standing and hears a gasp. His eyebrows shoot up to join his hairline with the next words this ‘stranger’ utters.

“Iwaizumi Hajime? From Aobajosai?” 

“I’m... Sorry? Do I know you?” He feels a slight breeze as if the person is flapping their hand.

“Let’s get inside first. We’re blocking the doorway.” As confused as he is, Iwaizumi steps inside and follows Kaede’s guidance towards the counter. She knows this routine, now they’re inside. He hears her paws land on a hard surface before dropping back to the floor, and then a menu is pressed into his hands. Usually, he’d ask a staff member to check if there’s something he wants on there, or someone to read the menu to him. Today, he’s both astonished and pleased to find Braille beneath his fingertips. 

“I apologise for my rudeness before, but I don’t recognise your voice. And, well, appearance wise...” He gestures to his unseeing eyes with a humorous smile. The deep voice chuckles again, like a rumbling train.

“Sawamura Daichi. I was captain of Karasuno?”

“Oh, of course! Yes, I remember you now! Gave us one _hell_ of a good game in the Preliminaries.” He holds out his hand to shake, boyish grin for a smile, which remains on his face as Sawamura shakes back with a firm grip.

“I- uh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Nah, it’s fine. The team with the better 6 is stronger. There’s no need to apologise for a game won fairly. Congratulations on reaching Nationals, that’s an incredible achievement.” He hears Sawamura huff with amusement and relief.

“If only it hadn’t been for Nekoma! We might have gone all the way.”

“Yeah, I saw that game. I don’t think anyone could have taken them on that year, honestly. They deserved the win.”

“Have you heard about this year? Both our kouhai have proceeded to the final prelims. The games are tomorrow, if you’re not busy.” Iwaizumi knows. He goes quiet and bites his lip because he _knows_ the games are tomorrow. But he hasn’t been to a volleyball game since before the accident. He couldn’t bear to talk about his old team, because he knows he can’t watch them. The support and advice he gave before is useless if he can’t see what to advise them on.

Oikawa went to observe every single one of their games last year and he always came back glowing about what a great captain Yahaba had turned into. This year too, he attended the preliminary matches. The only thing Iwaizumi has heard of it is when he gushes to Matsukawa and Hanamaki about how Kunimi has broken out of his shy little shell and leads them forth with technical skill and power. 

They don’t talk about volleyball around Iwaizumi, after one particular incident that set off a meltdown. He ended up crashing in bed for _three days straight_ , because he couldn’t bear to hear about their success when he couldn’t see it happen. He lost volleyball with his sight and he hasn’t gone back to it. 

Until now. Even though Sawamura can see the guide dog, and is obviously clever enough to work out what that means, he brings it up so casually. Probably because it’s the first notable thing they have in common. In the end, Iwaizumi chooses to answer truthfully.

“No, I- I haven’t watched any matches since the start of second term last year.” Sawamura pieces it together in an instance, Iwaizumi hears, with a breathy ‘oh’. 

“Anyways, would it be okay to sit with you? You seem to know the cafe pretty well.”

“Of course. Let me just put the milk in the kitchen and then I’ll be right back.” Iwaizumi realises the odd thing he’d been hearing very quietly underneath their conversation was a plastic bag filled with milk cartons. Does- Does Sawamura work here? But that wouldn’t explain why he would be sitting in the cafe instead of, well, working.

“Asahi! I brought the milk you asked for! And would you tell Noya to stop sneaking off? We have customers!”

“Y-Yes! Sorry, thank you! I’ll call him now!” The jittery voice disappears off through to the back, and Iwaizumi _smells_ , rather than hears, the oven open and freshly baked cakes are removed. He can’t help a pleased hum at the tangy lemon fragrance, sweet and strong. Asahi, who he clearly remembers as the Ace of Karasuno, must be the baker here. 

“Noya! Customers!” Thunderous footsteps come pounding down stairs that must be nearby, and shoes squeak to a halt on the granite flooring of the work area. 

“Hi, welcome to Adapt! What can I get yo- WHOA! I know you!”

“Umm? Yes? You’re... The libero, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! Your spikes were _insanely_ powerful! And you made some awesome receives as well! Are you still playing in university? What team?! I wanna play you again!” Iwaizumi can’t get a word in edgeways and finds himself unintentionally stepping backwards. There must be something on the floor that Kaede doesn’t remove in time, because he falls onto his butt on the floor, only just managing to land on his elbows instead of his head. 

“Shit! I mean fuck! I mean- Are you okay?!” Noya jumps over the counter, causing vibrations under his feet as he lands, crouching down to help Iwaizumi up. Kaede growls lowly in her throat. She sees him as a threat. 

“Kaede, Shh. Friend.” Instantly, she stops. Iwaizumi can’t see Noya’s eyes widen or jaw drop, but he does feel him freeze. When he next speaks, he _finally_ has an inside voice.

“You have a guide dog? You- You’re blind. Oh _heck_ , I was rude to you. Sorry man, I didn’t realise.” Noya gives him a hand up, surprisingly strong for such a tiny body. Iwaizumi dusts himself off and forces on a smile that doesn’t quite fit properly. It’s fake.

“No worries. Anyways, can I get a chocolate frappe?” It seems to be the right thing to do – divert the conversation. And it works, Noya darting back behind the counter.

“Yeah, sure thing! One chocolate frappe, on the house!”

“On the- What?” He hears milk being poured into a blender and a spoonful of something he thinks is cocoa powder being added, if he can smell it correctly over the other fragrances. The blender whirrs, and Iwaizumi understands why such a loud person is serving customers when he laughs, clearly heard over the din of the blender.

“I owe it to ya! Being rude an’ all. I didn’t mean to, I promise! Asahi says it’s ‘cus I have no filter, and Suga says I’m ‘socially inept’, whatever that means! He’s the one that gave me this job!” 

“Suga? Ah, your third year setter, yes?”

“That’s the one! Y’know... We actually have a job opening. How D’you feel about applying?” Iwaizumi hesitates. He’s sure it must be rude to blatantly agree and ask for an application form, but he’s clutching at straws and getting desperate. 

“Even with my...?” He gestures towards his face.

“With your face?”

“My eyes. Blindness.” The blender stops, a thick creamy substance falling into a glass cup in glops, before something is squirted on top. Chocolate sauce, the description on the menu provides.

“Well, sure. Why do you think we’re called _Adapt_? Literally anyone can do it.”

“Are- Are you sure? I can’t even see what I’m doing, if I even did get the job.” 

“Yeah, and I had no idea what to do when I started! D’you know I have a notepad with the recipes written on it right here? I have ta use it, cus I can’t remember so many different drinks and prices and measurements. Asahi, he works in the kitchen, has anxiety _suuuper_ bad, so he freaks out at the minor things like something getting burnt or a sprinkle in the wrong place. But it’s cool. We have some guy in a wheelchair, another girl with only one arm, and someone with autism who struggled at first. In the _major_ term of struggled.”

“Sounds like a mismatch of people.”

“Yeah! We’re like... Like our own brand of superheroes! We’ll fight stigma against disabilities and totally kick homophobic ass whilst doing it!” Iwaizumi chuckles. Noya isn’t so bad to talk to, he guesses, once he gets over the volume.

“In that case, I’d love to apply. Do you have any forms or...?”

“It’s all by interview. Here’s your drink, lemme go and get Suga! He’s probably tryna drag Daichi into helping _again_.” Iwaizumi wraps his hand around the cold drink and lifts it to his lips, pausing to just hold it there and smell it. It’s thick and sugary, with an undertone of coffee with the faint whiff of chocolate. Now that he can’t eat with his eyes, as the saying goes, Iwaizumi uses his nose. He takes the first sip and wishes he were sitting down so he could lean back in the chair and relax in bliss.

“Hey, sorry I disappeared. Suga wanted to talk to me.” Sawamura is back, cool as a cucumber. 

“No problem. I don’t think I even noticed. Your former libero was bombarding me with questions.”

“Yeah, Noya does that. I should have warned you.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I got a free drink for it, so.” He tilts the cup in Sawamura’s vague direction and is answered with a laugh. Then, there’s two voices coming from round the corner.

“Noya, please. I’m _busy_. We desperately need someone, but no-one has applied and-!”

“That’s _**why**_ I’m dragging you out of your boring old office for once!” Kaede stands alert as Iwaizumi tenses up. It’s starting to get a little crowded, a little uncomfortable, and he’s not sure if people are looking, or if he’s in the way.

“Oh! Iwaizumi, this is a pleasant surprise! It’s lovely to see you again.” With a gentle boof, Kaede alerts him to a proposed handshake and Iwaizumi reaches out awkwardly to find it and shake.

“I wish I could say the same, but it is wonderful to meet a familiar face. Well, voice.” Suga snickers and pulls his hand away. Iwaizumi can’t see it, but he crosses his arms in a formal manner and smiles cheerily.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“I was informed about a job opening...?”

“Iwaizumi, you are a lifesaver. Come to my office! I can give you the interview right now.” He blinks, caught off guard, but nods anyways and listens to Suga’s footsteps as he leads the way to the office. Daichi’s heavier steps follow behind and then there’s the scraping of chair legs against the floor.

“Please, take a seat. So, how soon would you be able to start working?”

“As soon as possible. Ah, but I will need to normalise Kaede to the surroundings, teach her new commands...”

“That’s understandable. How quickly do you think she can learn that?”

“About a week, give or take.”

“And what will your pay package go towards?”

“Umm... Mortgage? Food? The normal things.”

“No drugs or illegal substances?”

“No, not at all!” 

“Any criminal record?”

“None.” Suga’s chair squeaks as he leans back in it, toe nudging the presumably wooden desk.

“Excellent. You’re hired.”

“I- What? Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Iwaizumi nearly drops his frappe. He has a job. He has a job! A job that not only understands Kaede comes with him, but also has a few people that he already knows, albeit vaguely. They seem like truly good people, so he can’t find any issue with it.

“Thank you! Thank you very much!” Suga warmly laughs and leans over the desk to put a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder with a rough squeeze.

“I want you here next week Monday at 6am, ready to train your dog for your new job!”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, I expect to see you at the game tomorrow~. Aobajosai versus Karasuno, all over again. We have to support our kouhai!”

“Suga...” Daichi gently intervenes, shaking his head from the corner where he’s standing with phone in hand. Suga retracts his hand from Iwaizumi’s shoulder in confusion before realising how tense he is. His head is hung low and his hands tightly grip around Kaede’s lead.

“I’m sorry. Is that a bad subject?” Iwaizumi takes in a deep breath and sits up straight, expression tugged into determination.

“No. I’ll be there. I’ll come and watch the game.” Iwaizumi is a man who doesn’t go back on his word. Still, as he leaves the cafe with a new job and a skip in his step, he can’t help but wonder why on earth he agreed. He hasn’t seen Kindaichi and Kunimi since _he_ was a third year. Technically, he won’t be seeing them again. Ever. And there’s not much point in going to watch a match when he can’t... Really... Watch.

“What have I gotten myself into, Kaede?” To her credit, the dog gives a small whine before tugging him backwards from stepping into the road by the back of his shirt. Iwaizumi hadn’t been keeping track of his steps.

“Oops. Good girl.” He slips her a treat before she nudges him to let him know it’s safe to cross. There are more people out now – more sounds and smells and things that collect together to make everything _too loud_. But he’s used to it. Once back on the doorstep, he reaches into his pocket for the key wrapped in velvet and unlocks the front door. 

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back.”

“He returns!”

“Iwa-chan, come listen to this movie!!!” All three of them are home, and Iwaizumi relaxes. He slips off his shoes with a smile and switches Kaede into her indoor collar instead of bright jacket and lead. Padding through to the living room, he throws himself onto the sofa, sprawling across laps that he knows will be there. Matsukawa pinches his nose playfully.

“You look happy.”

“Yeah. Kaede and I went to that cafe you told me about.”

“Oh yeah? Was it nice?”

“I have a job~.”

“No freakin’ way!” Hanamaki, in a euphoric surge of delight, jumps up and tackles Iwaizumi to the floor, both of them rolling to a halt where he pins Iwaizumi down.

“You got a job~?!”

“Yup. I have no idea about the details, but anything is better than sitting around here all day being a burden.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re not a burden...”

“Yes I am. Don’t even try and pretend that’s not true. For now, let’s focus on other things.” Oikawa whines, no happy about Iwaizumi’s self-doubt, but he knows if Iwaizumi doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t. He’s stubborn like that.

“Things? So there’s something else? Hanamaki lets Iwaizumi get up, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“Yeah, umm... Are you guys going to the game tomorrow?” 

“The game? Well, sure. Why?”

“Take me with you.” 

Three things happen.

Firstly, Hanamaki tackles him again, in a tight hug that almost cut off his breathing.  
Secondly, Oikawa squeals loud enough that the neighbours probably hear, and jumps up from the sofa to do a victory dance.  
Thirdly, Matsukawa slides from his seat on the sofa to join Hanamaki in _assaulting_ him, ruffling his hair with cries of _“That’s great, Iwaizumi!”_

Those three things, he expected. What he did _not_ expect was the soft lips pressed against his own before Hanamaki pulled back, and then rougher lips replacing them. Oikawa’s squawk is what prompts Matsukawa to pull away, and Iwaizumi can feel the shock at their own actions.

“Hey! That’s not fair, where’s my kiss?! I want to kiss Iwa-chan too!” Iwaizumi pauses for a moment, before he shrugs.

“Sure, why not.” Oikawa muscles his way in between Hanamaki and Matsukawa, looping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and rubbing their noses together before he _licks_ Iwaizumi’s lips with a titter of mischief. Iwaizumi’s ears burn and there’s heat in his cheeks too, so he concludes that he must be blushing up a storm.

“D-Dumbass!” Oikawa cackles playfully as he sits back, and is quickly grabbed by both Matsukawa and Hanamaki who plant a soppy one on each of his cheeks.

“Ewwww! You drooled on me on purpose!”

“You licked Iwaizumi~.” Oikawa huffs and Iwaizumi takes the opportunity to prop himself up on his elbows.

“So... This is probably the right time to mention I’m poly as hell?” 

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Me three! Or four, really.” The other three exchange glances, whilst Iwaizumi sits up with his hands in his lap.

“Then... Are we...?” Matsukawa makes his move first; tilting Iwaizumi’s face up gently and pressing a soft, lingering kiss that lets Iwaizumi feel every millimetre of his flaky, torn lips. He should probably put some chapstick on them.

“Does that answer your question?” Iwaizumi nods, hiding his face behind his hands in embarrassment. 

Today could be marked up to the best day of his life. Not only does he have a new job, he has a new relationship, grown from a friendship that had survived things they never could have imagined.

_Three_ of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws ships at you*


	6. Volleyball.

If last night was the best day of his life, then this has to be the worst. He’s sitting in a seat at the volleyball preliminary matches stadium, trying to hide behind his oversized hoodie (stolen from Matsukawa), the baseball cap he’s tilted down to cover his eyes (stolen from Hanamaki), and the large drink in his hands (stolen from Oikawa, who trusted him with it whilst he went to the bathroom). 

He can feel eyes on him, boring into him, wondering why a guy with a _guide dog_ is here to watch a match. Or maybe they could be staring at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who have created a huge banner in preparation for this game. They’re like embarrassing middle aged dads, Iwaizumi regrets coming with them.

“You all came! Iwaizumi-senpai, you finally came!” The voice is deeper than he remembers, more mature. But he knows who it is immediately and he can’t help but unravel from his hiding place and smile. He chuckles as he stands up with open arms which Kindaichi takes for enthusiastically pulling him into a rib-crushing hug. 

“You didn’t come last year.”

“Nah, sorry kid. I was... Working through some things.” He waves a hand in the direction of Kaede as Kindaichi frees him from the hug. He hears Kindaichi gasp, but it’s more excited than shocked.

“She’s so cute! It’s a she, right?”

“Uh, yes. Kaede. You’re not- You’re not going to say anything?” Kindaichi pauses in confusion and Iwaizumi can imagine him tilting his head like he used to during practice.

“Can I pet her?”

“I’m afraid she’s a service dog on duty, so I’m gonna have to say no to that one.”

“That’s okay, it was worth asking!” He can practically _feel_ Kindaichi’s beaming grin, not needing his eyes to see how excited and enthusiastic the now-third year was. He still hasn’t commented on the blindness, and Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he finds that relieving or worrying.

“Senpai.” The verbal warning he gets is only seconds before slender arms wrap around him and gently squeeze. He reaches a hand up to run through smooth, short hair.

“Hey, Kunimi. I didn’t hear you approach.” The new captain of Aobajosai hugs a little tighter before letting go.

“I have soft steps.”

“I figured.” Automatically, Iwaizumi reaches up to ruffle his hair, and now that Kunimi is standing up straight, he has to stretch a little.

“Holy shit, you’ve grown!” Kunimi’s soft chuckle is accompanied by Kindaichi’s bright laugh.

“Yeah, he just shot up in second year! We’re the same height now!”

“Son of a gun.” There’s an announcement over the speaker that’s far too loud for Iwaizumi, but he can’t do anything to stop it, so he just listens. 

_“All players due on the court. All players please return to their teams on the court.”_

“Aww, I was hoping we’d get longer.” Iwaizumi hears the soft ‘fwap’ of Kunimi’s hands gently patting Kindaichi’s shoulder.

“Come on, we have a team to lead to victory.”

“Yes Captain!” Matsukawa bids them good luck, Hanamaki promises to treat them if they win, and Oikawa is _still_ gushing over his ‘cute little kouhai becoming badass’. Iwaizumi smiles and crosses his arms with a confident posture.

“I can’t exactly _see_ the game, but I have every faith in you that you’ll make it a show. Go out there and crush them!”

“Osu!” 

“We promise.” Rapid footsteps pace away, and Iwaizumi knows his former kouhai have returned to the court. Hopefully, to make good on the banner. To rule the court. Something inside him, a gut feeling, tells them they can do it. That these two he has helped to sharpen and strengthen will take Aobajosai to nationals, for the first time. Before he lost his sight, he watched them grow. He watched them gain confidence with their skills and flourish from awkward buds into powerful thorns. Although he hasn’t witnessed their development the year gone, he knows from what he’s heard that they’ll be good. Amazing. _Champions._

“Well, you’re still as annoyingly cool as ever.” An arm wraps around him from behind and he laughs as his head rests against Matsukawa’s chest.

“It’s a born ability.” With a huff, Matsukawa releases him so he can sit down as the referee blows a whistle and both teams start to warm up. Hanamaki is on Iwaizumi’s left and holds the closest hand, thumb brushing over the back of it in circles. Oikawa is on his right, an arm draped across his shoulders and head pressed against Iwaizumi’s own. He stays this way so he can whisper what’s happening throughout the game, who the ball goes to and who scores.

Iwaizumi had thought volleyball lost with his sight.

But as he _listens_ he realises volleyball is more than just a game for the eyes. It’s the _atmosphere_. It’s the tension and excitement of a long rally. It’s the huge cheer for every scored point. It’s the trust the teammates have for each other, heard through calls of “Nice!” and “Take the hit!”.

It’s a welcome home, to people like Iwaizumi who had previously given up.

“I wish I could play.”

“Actually, Iwa-chan, there’s something we need to talk about after the game.” He’s visibly confused, but Oikawa doesn’t elaborate as he goes back to narrating the game.

21 – 23.

24 - 25.

33 – 32. 

_36 – 34._

“They _**did it!!!!**_ Iwa-chan, they won! They won!” Iwaizumi laughs as he’s shaken from side to side in excitement, his boyfriends screaming and crying their joy because Aobajosai is finally, _finally_ going to nationals. They don’t think twice about it when Kindaichi and Kunimi call them down to the court to celebrate with them.

The second and first years are _silent_ , awestruck as setter for the official Japan men’s volleyball team, Oikawa Tooru, walks onto their court with nothing but praise and advice. Iwaizumi waits in the carpeted hallway with Kaede, not wanting her claws to scratch the surface of the court.

“Iwaizumi~.” He turns towards the familiar voice coming up behind.

“Hi, Sugawara.”

“Congratulations on the win!”

“Thanks, but it’s not mine to claim.” He fondly tilts his head back towards the court.

“They worked so hard to get there. I’m proud of them. And, sorry for your kouhai’s loss.” Kaede gives a small growl before Sugawara’s hand chops into Iwaizumi’s ribs and he wheezes.

“Take some pride in yourself too! You helped mentor them, right?”

“Yes?”

“Then this is your win too!” Iwaizumi straightens back up and grins from ear to ear.

“Thank you.” Sugawara pats him on the shoulder, reminds him to be at the cafe at 6 on Monday, and then regroups with the rest of the Karasuno alumni, further down the hallway. Iwaizumi stands against wall, Kaede lying patiently by his feet, one paw resting against his ankle. It’s her way of letting him know she’s still there, something she taught herself. Until he heard footsteps that he recognised as Oikawa’s heading his way, Iwaizumi waited with closed eyes.

“Ready to go already?”

“Yeah, Makki and Mattsun are going to stay for a bit, but there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” His tone misses that usual cheerful lilt. It sounds _serious_ , and Iwaizumi can’t help the way his stomach erupts with butterflies.

Did Oikawa regret yesterday? Did he only agree because the other two did? What if he didn’t love them, like they loved him? What if it was just _Iwaizumi_ he didn’t feel the same towards?

“Y-Yeah, okay. What did you want to say?”

“Let’s go talk in the car.” His keys jingle in hand, and Iwaizumi follows the ominous chime with a sickening sensation. Since ‘the incident’, as they’ve taken to calling it, Iwaizumi tends to assume things pessimistically, rather than realistically. It had been a slow, gradual change that nobody seemed to have realised until Hanamaki pointed out that Iwaizumi always expected the worse nowadays. Iwaizumi response had been to shrug his shoulders and state that he’d already gotten over the worst, so there was no point thinking anything could be worse than that.

“So, you know what we were talking about earlier?” 

“This morning? About- about our relationship...?” Oikawa paused and blinked rapidly in shock. 

“What? No! About volleyball!” All the tension left Iwaizumi’s shoulders in one fell swoop of air. Then, his eyebrows furrowed inwards and his upper lip curled.

“Why didn’t you say that first, dumbass?! I was shitting myself!”

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan! I thought you knew!” The car door opened and Kaede jumped in and onto her bed, where Iwaizumi’s feet would usually be. It probably confused her a little when Iwaizumi got into the front instead, but as a service dog, she was trained to respond to new situations. In this case, her owner was safe, so she laid her head down to doze.

“What about volleyball, then?”

“Well, you know you want to play again?” Iwaizumi feels a pang in his heart.

“Oikawa, I _can’t_... I’m blind, how am I supposed to follow the ball?”

“I set up a Paralympics volleyball team at Tokyo University. I spoke to Kobe, and they’re happy to create a university alliance that allows students from _both_ universities to join the team.” For a moment, Iwaizumi is quiet, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

“You- You did that? For me?”

“Mainly, yes. But it’s for _everyone_. The net is lower down for people with physical disabilities like amputation and dwarfism. The ball has a bell inside it, so you can _hear_ it instead of looking for it. And there’s going to be special mats down on the floor for people that fall over a lot, unexpectedly. Like with narcolepsy or cerebral imbalance.”

“Oikawa, that- That’s _amazing!_ Thank you. Not just from me, but from everyone who’s going to attend.” Oikawa smiles, leaning across and stealing a kiss. Iwaizumi presses back, but before either of them can deepen it, lost in the moment, knuckles rap against the driver’s window. They leap back with a jolt and Iwaizumi hears Oikawa scoff before turning off the child lock. The back doors open in sync and two people get in.

“So _this_ was your plan! Stealing Iwaizumi away to make out whilst we educated our dear successors.”

“Yeah, Oikawa. That’s a new low, even for you.”

“Umm, excuse you, I deserve _all_ the kisses, thank you.” 

“Actually, I think someone else does~.” That’s all the warning Iwaizumi gets before Hanamaki and Matsukawa are leaning over his seat and playfully smothering him with tiny kisses as he laughs and pretends to push them off. Truthfully, he loves the attention. It soothes any doubts he may harbour about their new poly status. 

“So, the volleyball thing was about University, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Whaddya think, Iwaizumi? You up to going back?” It’s been over a year since he was last at university. He’s learnt Braille, he’s got a guide dog to assist him, and he’s pretty much back to feeling confident and independent. A small smile tugs at his lips as he sits back in the seat, hands folded in his lap and fully relaxed. He’s conquered becoming blind when it was never expected. He’s got a job, a relationship, and everything seems to fall into place. Iwaizumi Hajime has conquered his own world, and it feels like there’s no reason to stop there. 

University? No problem.

“Bring it on.”


End file.
